


know you as a hint in things

by sandyk



Category: Fringe (TV)
Genre: AU from s1, Double Penetration, Multi, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: Olivia is having her second successful lazy Saturday of her adult life. (Olivia/Peter/Lincoln happy established relationship.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: no profit garnered, not mine. For the trope bingo spot handcuffs. Title from Malachi Black's Terce. Thanks to the Jam for the beta help!

As the only one of the three of them who ever had to be in handcuffs, it doesn't surprise Olivia that Peter doesn't like to wear them for fun. "Of course you two get off on it," Peter says to Lincoln. 

"Get off on it is a strong way to put it," Lincoln says. 

"Not for you," Peter says. 

Olivia smiles but refuses to open her eyes. It's Saturday morning. Just once she likes the idea of staying in bed and letting the day happen around her. She never does that. She has never done that. She wonders if that's actually true or she's exaggerating. 

She's stopped listening to the boys in the kitchen. She's running through Saturdays in her head. Boarding school, college, Marines, FBI. Maybe once when she and John had just started up. They spent a weekend in Rhode Island. They didn't leave the room once. They didn't do that again, though, Charlie had made a comment and Olivia didn't want to get caught. It was worse when Lincoln joined the division, working with the three of them. She didn't want him to think less of her. 

Then there was the Pattern and she couldn't help John and she was obsessed. She might have slept in once. But not for long because there was also Peter. Peter would do anything to get away from Walter in the beginning and that included calling Olivia or Lincoln on Saturdays to beg for something to do. 

"That was just flirting, be honest," Lincoln said. "You were flirting with both of us." When was that, she thinks. A year ago, maybe. A year ago, she's sure. They were eating takeout on the floor of Olivia's apartment. She misses that place. She likes their house now. She likes the three bathrooms, that was at Peter's insistence. He said he'd spent a year in a hotel with one bathroom with Walter and he would never again wait to pee. He said, "No more in this lifetime," with such incredible seriousness. She and Lincoln laughed at him, but they got the place with 2 and a half bathrooms. 

Her phone is in her hand and it vibrates. She opens her eyes to look at it. It's the best kind of alert because it turns out to be an email from Ella that Rachel clearly helped her write. She flips through a few more messages and then pushes the phone away. She hears it fall on the floor. The bed isn't that high, so she's sure it will be fine. 

Peter comes in and sits on the bed sort of next to her. It's a big bed. He says, "I brought you breakfast. You should really have breakfast." 

"I can smell it," she says. She sighs heavily, opens her eyes and sits up. Peter has a plate of bacon, toast, some sort of salad which is insane and very Peter. He also has coffee. "Salad for breakfast."

"Also bacon," he says. "And toast." He holds out the coffee with one hand and a slice of bacon with the other. 

She takes both. She looks at him while she chews. She could say something about Peter's need to force vegetable servings on her and Lincoln. It started a week after Walter disappeared, a week after Peter made the Bridge. She doesn't have to be a profiler to see Peter's transferring his caretaker duties. 

Peter probably knows it, too. She eats everything, finishes the coffee, and hands him the empty mug. She kisses his cheek on her way to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. When she comes out with clean teeth and face scrubbed, Peter is lying down on his side on the bed. She snuggles up next to him so he can be the big spoon this time. He says, "A nap sounds good."

"I'm still sleeping in," Olivia says. 

"I have pants on, so it's a nap. That's an official definition, by the way."

"They're pajama pants," Olivia says. She pulls him closer. "I can tell you're not wearing underwear, too."

"It's Saturday," Peter says. "Why bother?"

She closes her eyes. She had sex with Peter yesterday, at the lab. Even with Walter gone, probably because Walter is gone, Peter insists on working from Harvard. Brandon complains every time he has to fly from New York City to personally work on something with Peter, but everyone knows it's all bluster. Brandon loves poking through Walter's stuff. But Friday, Peter and Brandon were forced to wait while some sort of experiment percolated or gestated. Brandon marched off to get some air, Peter pulled Olivia into the backroom. 

When Peter has sex, he turns off all the calculations and speculations and turns that laser focus on her, or Lincoln or the two of them. She bets it's something he only does, has only done with them. It's humbling and also an incredible turn-on. 

Funny, she thinks, that she was so afraid of Lincoln finding out about her and John, but now she and Peter and Lincoln live together and everyone basically knows. They don't ask, but it has to be obvious. Of course since then they've discovered there are parallel universes and time travel and cortexiphan, so maybe three people in a relationship doesn't rate as weird to the people they know. 

She is thinking about the sex and Peter only bothering to push his jeans down to his thighs, his eyes closed and his grip so hard on her thighs, when she falls asleep. She dreams about her mother. 

When she wakes up, Peter is sitting next to her. He runs his hand down her naked thigh. He says, "Are you planning to get dressed soon?"

"No," she says. "Maybe I won't get dressed at all today." She gets up and goes to the bathroom. When she comes out, Peter is waiting for her. "You look like a porn star," she says. He's taken off his pants and spread his legs a little. He's also hard. 

He laughs a little and pulls her on the bed. She kisses him, his erection pressed between them. She says, "Where's Lincoln?"

"Working out," Peter says, rolling his eyes. "He'll be back soon."

She already has her hands on his dick. "It's just been days since the three of us --"

"I know," he says, breathing heavily. "Trust me." 

She would answer but she's working on making him come with her mouth and hands. She's good at it. He's appreciative. He reaches for her, runs his thumb over her wet lip. "Come here," he says. 

He's amazing, his fingers deep in her. Two and three and the way he kisses her. She says, "More," spreading her legs further. She's so wet and ready, he goes from four fingers to curling in his thumb quickly. She loves this feeling, full and spread so it almost hurts. He makes her come and she would swear her eyes roll back in her head. 

After a quick shower for both of them, she's back on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV. Peter gets dressed and says, "We need coffee and --"

"More salad food," she says, lightly mocking. 

"Actually, yes," Peter says. "Enjoy your morning."

"It's already nearly noon," she says, almost proud. "I'll have a good afternoon." 

She changes the sheets on the bed, puts the dirty ones in the washing machine. Then she remakes the bed and pulls the clean sheets around her. The TV is on some home design show. She surprises herself by watching it, her mind quiet. 

Wednesday morning was the last time the three of them had sex together. Since then it's been this stupid case and they've all been exhausted at night and rushing around in the morning and on separate tracks investigating. 

Lincoln comes in when she's watching her second episode of the home design show. He's sweaty and glistening. She says, "I was just thinking it was, I feel like I've barely seen you."

"I know," he says. He strips out of his workout clothes and puts a big clean towel on the bed which he lays down on. "Why are we watching this?"

"I'm watching this," she says. "I like it. It's sort of hypnotic. I don't think at all."

"I don't believe that," Lincoln says. His glasses are off, on the bedside table. He rubs his face. "Peter is grocery shopping, I take it."

"He made salad for breakfast," Olivia says. 

"He misses Walter," Lincoln says. "What's his latest theory? Time travel, matter exchange?"

"I don't think he tells us anymore," Olivia says. "At least he's not trying to do something to find Walter."

"That we know of," Lincoln says. "You know, we should ask Astrid. Even though she's in New York, those two talk all the time. He probably tells her if he's planning something stupid."

"He probably isn't," Olivia says. "If the worst he does is force five servings of vegetables a day on us, we're getting off okay."

"Remember when Peter took off when he found out about Walter?"

She says, "He's fine. He has us now. He can feed us kale and feel better."

Lincoln says, "I can't believe it's one o'clock in the afternoon and you're still in bed."

She smiles. Lincoln says, "Look at you, you're proud of yourself."

"I am, a little. I was trying to remember the last time I did nothing on a Saturday or stay in bed all day and you know when it was? With John, before you started working in Boston," she says. 

"I think the last time I did was --"

"Two months ago, you and Peter spent the weekend in Chicago."

"You were supposed to come with," Lincoln says. 

"I know," Olivia says. "Astrid called and --" She shrugs. 

"You are who you are," he says. He's squeezing in closer to her. 

"Since the Bridge, though, the universes aren't falling apart, we don't have to worry about an apocalypse," she says. "I don't need to be who I am. Not as much, at least."

"You don't really mean that," Lincoln says. "When is Peter getting home?"

"He left a while ago," she says. "My phone is on the floor, maybe he texted."

She hears the front door open. "Speaking of."

They both sit there while they listen to Peter humming and putting groceries away. He knows they're waiting for him, Olivia thinks. He's being a tease. 

He finally comes in, taking off his t-shirt as he does. He's smirking at them. "Were you two waiting for me?"

"No," Olivia says. "We were waiting for more salads." 

"It's what's for lunch," Lincoln says. 

Finally, finally, it's the three of them. One time Astrid actually asked about it, Olivia said it wasn't about the sex, it wasn't just the sex. Walter never asked about it because it didn't phase him at all. But she didn't tell Astrid that the three of them in bed is the best sex she's ever had in her life. It's better than when she's only with Peter or only with Lincoln. It's the connection with the three of them. 

She doesn't track who does what with whom though she thinks Lincoln does. Lincoln is obsessed with balance. He thinks it's vital to their relationship. She and Peter aren't as firm believers but it's like Peter's vegetables, a relationship is give and take and tolerance. 

They could probably make out for hours and she'd be happy. Olivia loves the kissing and groping, the feel of Peter's and Lincoln's skin. It's been so long, though, they only make out for a little before Lincoln is pulling her by her thighs, lining up his dick to push inside of her. Peter is behind her, his lubed fingers circling and entering her ass. They don't do this very often. After Peter's fingers have opened her, he starts fucking her. Peter and Lincoln move in and out of her. This is like earlier, she is filled and spread and enveloped, she is laughing into Lincoln's shoulder. They both come and pull out. She feels a little gross and used. It's a good feeling. 

Lincoln is licking her thighs and then her clit until she comes. 

"Oh, God, I need a shower," she says. 

"Same," Peter says. 

Somehow the two of them end up in the other shower. She starts another load of dirty sheets, takes the just washed ones out of the dryer, remakes the bed. She realizes she's starving. She goes into the kitchen, makes herself a salad and warms up some leftover fried chicken. She eats it all standing at the kitchen counter. 

Peter and Lincoln had shut off the water, she hears them turn it back on. She can picture them in the shower and she smiles. 

Peter comes out first, not even a towel around his waist. He says, "You made yourself a salad."

"You sound so shocked and happy." 

"I'm both," he says. 

"Someone keeps saying we should all eat more vegetables," she says. She notes the fading scratches on his chest. He and Lincoln were having fun while she had her supper. 

"I honestly only care about you and Lincoln," Peter says. 

"He's lying," Lincoln says. "I've seen him bringing steamed broccoli to Brandon once and a green smoothie to Broyles."

"I wish I'd seen that," Olivia says. 

"He didn't drink it," Peter says. "So I did. And Brandon appreciated the broccoli."

"When Walter had greens at the lab, it wasn't usually edible," Lincoln says. 

"He put pot in half the food he made at the lab," Olivia says. 

"More than half," Peter says. "Astrid always used to warn me."

"She didn't warn me," Olivia says. 

"Or me," Lincoln says. 

"I was smart enough to ask," Peter says, opening the refrigerator. 

"That's a good point," Lincoln says. 

Olivia goes back to the bedroom. She is having her second successful lazy Saturday of her adult life. She turns on the tv and nearly claps when she sees there are even more episodes of her home design show. 

She falls asleep again. It couldn't be a nap, she thinks, since she's naked. She wakes up and it's dark outside. The TV is off and Peter is asleep next to her. Lincoln is awake on the other side of her, looking at his phone. He says, "Are you going to do this tomorrow?"

"No," Olivia says quickly. "No. I don't think I'm capable of it."

"You could be," he says. 

She shrugs. "I don't want to be."

"Maybe that makes you appreciate it more," Lincoln says. 

She watches Peter sleep for a moment. He still has nightmares but right now he looks peaceful. Olivia says, "Is my phone still on the floor?"

"Yup," Lincoln says. 

She looks at nothing. She isn't focusing. She turns on her side and puts her arm around Peter. "I'll get it in the morning." She closes her eyes.


End file.
